But to understand the nightmare, you have to go back one hour, to a morning that began like any other.

The day started with a stubborn ray of sunlight. Kenneth was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me, a silent, tense silhouette against the window. I slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen to make coffee. After fifteen years, our life was a well-oiled routine. I ran the city’s largest leisure center; he was a senior manager at the construction firm owned, by a twist of fate, by my brother. This fact was a source of immense pride for Catherine, who never missed a chance to boast about her son’s prestigious position